


Freckles

by Scarlett_Rogue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Rogue/pseuds/Scarlett_Rogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas died in Dean's arms, leaving him with burn marks and a broken heart. But Cas never really dies, does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the post about Cas dying in Dean's arms and leaving him with angel-wing-burns all over his body. But it ends happy, I promise! And also Jensen's freckles make an appearance.

Dean fell asleep sometime after 3 am, after the rib-aching sobs subsided and his mind slipped uneasily into unconsciousness. Sam left him alone tonight, knew he needed to be alone with his thoughts, his tears. The bright red burn marks in the shape of an angel’s wing stretched across his chest and his skin screamed out in agony if he so much as moved an inch. It was a permanent reminder that he had just lost one of the most important people in his life and it would never stop hurting.

It was different this time; there was a body. Cas’ body. They’d never been left with a body before. They’d never had to pour gasoline over their friend’s body and light it on fire, small the flesh burning. Cas deserved a hunter’s burial, though. He’d given everything for them, and as Dean’s mind wandered into sleep, eyes burning from crying too hard, he’d thought how shitty it was that all they could give Cas in return was a going away party for his meat suit. 

Dean slept for almost twelve hours. When he woke up the world felt different. The burns on his chest didn’t hurt and the swelling around his eyes had gone down completely. Something warm pressed against his body and he could smell the worn leather of the Impala.

“143.”

His eyes snapped open and immediately flinched shut as the light coming in from the window assaulted his vision. 

“What the-” He shielded his eyes with his hand and blinked at the figure next to him. He recognized that voice right away but he didn’t want to hope, not this time. 

“You have 143 freckles on your face,” the gravelly voice whispered, blue eyes level with his. A finger stroked feather-light down Dean’s cheek. “I counted.” 

Without thinking, Dean buried his face in Cas’ chest, the scent of the Impala and the steady beat of the angel’s heart all he cared about.


End file.
